I wish there was more love for Male V. I like Fem V don't get me wrong but Male V is just so... Okay I just think I'm thirsty because all my points water down to "his voice sounds nice" or gender envy
my biggest word of advice to anyone scared to post their work/ocs/involve themselves in creative spaces online is to earnestly get interested in other people. be kind to others, like/reblog their work, tell them what you like about their work, get to know them as people.
this isn’t to “weasel” your way into anything or having ulterior motives or whatever. if you become friends with someone then that’s great! but there’s always something very personal about posting any kind of creative work. we’re all trying our best to connect with each other and the best way to get comfortable is to get to know others and show up as yourself. 🫶🏾
"Well, this has been real educational, but... I don't believe in the devil." | "You should. He believes in you."
Horror Character Appreciation - Keanu Reeves as John Constantine in Constantine (2005) dir. Francis Lawrence
Warnings: NSFW content (Minors Do Not Interact), Extremely dubious consent, fingering, near drowning, Constantine is bad with emotions. Brief scenes with smoking (it's Constantine). Angst. This is fanfiction, please DO NOT try this at home!
Summary: Constantine needs a backdoor into Heaven. That task involves you, a bathtub, and his very skilled fingers.
AO3 Link
A/N: This fic is dedicated to Ginny aka opheliainlove42. She has long since deactivated but she wrote amazing fics for the Keanuverse fandom. She is one of the people that encouraged me to start writing for this fandom and I cannot thank her enough. This is for you, Ginny, wherever you are 💜
I consider this fic in the same Constantine universe as Little Favors so yet another mess he puts the poor reader through.
Also thank you to @pointbreakvhs for beta reading this fic. 🤍
Thank you to @atomic-groupie for being my writing accountability partner. 💚
Divider credits to @jjaksclayton 🖤
Gif credits to @scamarcio
Oh the places a simple crush can land you. Going along with John Constantine frequently has you questioning your own sanity. It shouldn't surprise you. When someone deals with demons for a living, they must have experimental hobbies—you just didn't expect to be included in this next one.
Constantine first introduced this hobby to you one drizzly evening while eating your favorite takeout together. The comfort food paired nicely with the casual atmosphere and smooth blanket of rainwater cascading down your apartment windows. You took another bite while watching two wayward water droplets race along the pane. A soft prickle traveled from the back of your neck and up to the tips of your ears.
Each of your senses flared when you came in close proximity to Constantine, especially when his eyes were on you. You were hopeless. You weren't sure what stage of infatuation you were in when every millimeter of your body heated up when any amount of his attention was on you. It didn't matter what emotion: he could be melancholic, cranky, irate, or amused—you've never seen Constantine fully happy—they all brought about the same reaction.
You try, and fail, to ignore the obvious heat budding in your face. Turning, you see the umber shades of his irises dimmed by exhaustion and bad habits.
"I need a back door into Heaven." It was concerning how nonchalant he could be when discussing matters of the divine.
"Oh really?" You've learned to always hear him out no matter how impossible it sounds.
With a lazy draw of his freshly lit cigarette, he continues. "I need to get into Heaven for work purposes. However I can't simply fly through the pearly gates, that would bring too much attention."
Seems simple enough. "How do you plan on getting there?"
"Whenever I say 'I'll try anything once,' this is not what I mean!"
Constantine twists one of the squeaky knobs on the porcelain bathtub. Steam curls around his unnaturally pallid face. He was sickly looking like a Victorian child but with the constitution of a 70s rock star. His brow furrowed in concentration while testing the water's temperature.
"Can't give away all my plans. You would back out every time if I did." A smirk ghosts across his lips when looking at your apprehensive expression.
"I love—" you caught yourself. "I'm happy to help you, but I've never put my life in danger for you…"
"Don't trust me?" His eyebrow raise would be enough to end you.
"It's not that," you sigh, sitting on the edge of the tub next to him. "What if I crossover and don't come back? Or at worst I end up going to Hell instead—"
Constantine grabbed your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. His fingers are warm and still wet from the bathwater, their touch lighting up your nervous system like electricity. His demeanor was deadly serious, burning you as if you were one of those wretched demons he fights.
"I've got you." His other hand trailed from your shoulder to your elbow, holding you firmly. "I'm going to be with you the whole time. If anything happens, I'll pull you out."
If Constantine is anything, he is persuasive with you. If his hands weren't already on you, you'd be jumping in the water immediately.
Instead you stand up and unzip your jacket, revealing your tank top. You internally preened when his eyes trailed your torso and locked onto the button of your pants.
"I'm already drowning myself for you. You don't get a show." You tease, earning a soft exhale—the closest you've ever gotten to a laugh—from him.
"Understood." He whispers, taking your hand and guiding you into the bathtub like an uncommonly gentleman.
The tepid water envelopes you in a rolling embrace. Constantine keeps a hand to your back while you sat with your legs out. "I understand water is a common method of going between worlds but how long exactly will I be submerged?"
"As long as it takes." There he goes again with the edgy vagueness you simultaneously love and loathe. "Remember—"
"Heaven and Hell are closer to us than you realize." You complete his saying.
"Good girl."
Oh that bastard.
"W-well, I—" you stammer.
"Lie back." He commands softly.
He'd rolled up his sleeves, exposing his pale forearms and the split Red King alchemy tattoos. The same hand on your back lowers you below the surface. It was a strange parody of a baptism—with Constantine as your unorthodox priest and you being his ever so faithful follower. This dangerous exercise would prove to you just how far you're willing to go for your faith in him.
The reality of your situation pressed down on you like Constantine's hand currently resting against your sternum. He plays fast and loose with his own mortality, you are all too aware he held your own quite literally in his hands. There's nothing else for you to do but close your eyes and wait for your life to inch recklessly towards the edge with only John's word that he'll save you from oblivion.
Moments passed like grains of sand in an hourglass. It was far too late to give up now; even if you wanted to get out, Constantine was far to strong. In fact, his hand on your chest pinned you with even more force while his other hand—was unbuttoning your pants.
Wait…this wasn't part of the deal…
You open your eyes and see through the surface of the water Constantine looming over you like an angel of death. His gaze leers at you. Gone was the teasing and his sardonic attitude; dark eyes like voids threatening to overtake you in their abyss.
He pulls down on your pants zipper. Panic floods your mind and you try pushing or kicking him away. It's no use, he deflects every one of your feeble attempts at fighting him off. Exhaustion from being underwater slowed your struggling. Before he continued touching you, he held both your wrists while his other hand rested firmly on your thigh, squeezing it tightly.
He expression didn't waver but through the panic of your body in fight or flight, you barely captured a glimpse into his eyes yet again. Heat flickered in the darkness, looking at you with longing: raw and unable to be hidden.
Trust me, he seemed to tell you. Let me take you to Heaven.
Loving Constantine is hazardous but he was going to make it all worth it. His hand moved from your thigh and plunged under your waistband, thumb circling your clit through your underwear in torturous circles before pulling them to the side. It took every ounce of your willpower not to moan and release your precious air when he breached your entrance with two long fingers.
With the risk of your life, he had to work fast. His skilled fingers set a fast rhythm making your back arch and your hands grip the sides of the tub. He must use some of his divine magic to give you this much intense pleasure. How else would he make you feel this good?
He adds a third finger and the world around you goes blurry. Your arm shoots out of the water and you grab onto his bicep. His muscles flexed with every thrust and curl inside you, making you tighten and melt beneath him.
This must be Heaven. Goes your final thought before your vision goes white, your brain shuts off, and you scream…
There is brightness all around you gradually fading back into nothingness before you finally register Constantine's lips on yours giving you the kiss of life. Once conscious, he gently rotates you on your side to get the rest of the water out of your lungs.
"There you are, sweetheart," he rubs your back. "Welcome back."
Pushing yourself off the floor, you take in your surroundings. John had pulled you out of the bathtub, his white shirt was soaked through. You knew you were alert and cognizant when your attention pinpointed the material clinging to his lean torso and emphasizing the muscles there.
"I hope you got into Heaven because I am not doing that ever again," your tone was exasperated as he draped a fluffy towel around your shoulders.
"I did," he helped you stand up and steered you towards his bed. "It was only a second for us but to angels that is how long eternity is."
John gets you another towel while you dry off. Looking down at yourself, you notice your pants had been zipped up again. Butterflies violently swarmed in your stomach while he was carrying himself as if what he did to you never happened.
You couldn't bear ignoring what just happened to you. He will not evade this explanation. "John…"
This gives him pause, coming back to your side and assisted toweling your arms and shoulders. "Yes sweetheart?"
"I was not expecting your hands—" you bite your lip. "And everything else that happened…"
"I know." He says, wrapping a protective arm around you.
"I liked it," you laugh despite the situation. "But maybe give a little warning next time…"
"I'll remember that." He smirks.
"Why?" So much was loaded behind your one-word question.
"Euphoria is what guarantees Heaven. Death alone is only a fifty-fifty shot." He states matter-of-factly.
"Of course," you comment sarcastically. "The saying is 'at least buy me dinner first' but in this case, will you take me to dinner now?"
"Let's go." He helps put your jacket back on before doing the same to himself and you two leave his apartment for your favorite fancy restaurant.
Solace was too simple a word to describe how Constantine felt when Heaven gave you back to him. He may work with celestial beings, but no angel in Heaven compares to the light you bring to his life. If he was honest with himself, he knew you deserved so much better than someone as damaged as he is. But despite knowing this, he was still selfish and wanted to have you in any way he could.
It was just unfortunate the only way he could rationalize being with you physically was when Heaven or Hell was involved. Maybe one day he will be able to tell you how he really feels about you, but for now he was formulating the next mission he will need your "help" with.
A/N: I wanted to make a NSFW version of the bathtub scene from the movie and this was the result.
Okay so Victorian erotica is literally the most heinous, morally bankrupt, horrific shit I've ever read - but I've read a fair bit, partly from historical interest but also because a while back I helped a friend with a university project she was doing about censorship and pornography in 19th century England.
Anyway I need to share with you all the most hilarious line that has ever been written, circa 1887:
I feel like this excerpt is significantly enhanced by knowing that the novel in question is a first-person narrative written from the perspective of an inexplicably sapient flea who lives on Bella's body, and that's why the third priest's penis is described in this way: from the narrator's perspective it literally blots out the sky.
stormborns
prguitarman
jacobvanloon
jbbartram-illu
kianamaiart
kaledo-art
